Tuesday, 25 April 2017

The End of the Beginning?

Last Friday night we celebrated the twins' 21st birthdays. These, my youngest children, once tiny bundles weighing 6lbs and 4lbs respectively, have finally reached the age of maturity (actually it may be the age but I'm not sure which of my children, if any,  I would describe as 'mature' but that's another story) and we partied in grand style because, as regular readers know, we like to party.

The question of the tent came up immediately in the aftermath of number 1's wedding, exactly 51 weeks ago. And somehow, with a degree of pressure applied from all quarters, we found ourselves agreeing to a similar, if less grand, tented construction in the field with all the necessary accoutrements - dance floor, disco, hog roast, fire pit, bar, fancy dress and so on. The whole process has taken me back to the wonderful time a year ago when we buzzed with anticipation every morning to the slowly constructed and micromanaged celebrations of the wedding.

A somewhat lesser construction but nonetheless a rather marvellous tent popped up in our field which had been mown by my beloved to within an inch of its life. Meanwhile I had been treating the garden to an extensive weeding and planting process which, coming so soon after the 24 hour invasion of 60 sheep whilst we were away in Edinburgh, was surprisingly successful. In fact, on Friday night, I was feeling rather proud/smug about the garden and then in classic style (and at all three big parties we've had here over the last ten years), the minute the guests started arriving, the heavens opened and everyone ran for cover, not noticing my manicured flower beds and planting. Ho hum...

We had spent the week dealing with the minutiae of a big bash, under the stern leadership of number 1 child who had agreed to stay for the week as long as we had Spanky Tequilla, her cat, over Easter whilst she swanned about in Costa Filey. Spanky, and number 2 daughter's dog Milton (soon to be renamed Hilton because he spends so much time in our 'hotel'), were in residence over Easter which made for an interesting to response to "Did you have the whole family home for Easter?" "No, but I had their pets whilst they gallivanted elsewhere". Anyway number 1 set up her 'Chart of Accountability' on the fridge door on Monday and with initials on everything from buying balloons to paying the hog roast people (The Striped Pig Company - very highly recommended) nothing got missed and we were all set to go on Friday night. Even the marquee had been decorated with a bunting of pictures of the twins throughout the last 21 years - great fun for us to choose and a source of entertainment for all.

How to sum up the best bits in just a few sentences? Aside from the heavy shower whilst our guests arrived, the evening was dry and warm enough to open the side of the tent so folks could walk out to sit on the bales (provided most generously by Ian Taylor) around the fire pit as dusk fell.

I learnt that I am rubbish at Beer Pong and on the basis on Friday's performance, I won't be called up by the UK team (if there is such a thing) any time soon. I also learnt at the same time that Pimms, beer, red wine and fruit in the same glass is not a pleasant taste sensation.

The two older siblings made a most magnificent speech about their younger brother and sister, having been supplied with plenty of ammunition by their so-called friends. This included a rendition of Obviously by McFly sung by a youthful number 3, his favourite song when he was eight. Then surprisingly, number 3 made an off-the-cuff speech in response - confident and funny, we think he might have a career in stand-up comedy if all the other stuff fails.

The fancy dress costumes got plenty of use and somehow we discovered that you can take the man out of Ireland but you can't take Ireland out of the man with a stunning performance of River Dance from Mr O'Barr - surely going viral across social media even as we speak and he was gamely accompanied by the singing, dancing doctor. Despite gout (him) and age (me) we gave it hell on the dance floor until well after 2.00am when we made a tactical retreat to the kitchen to make bacon and sausage sandwiches for those guests remaining, nearly all of whom crashed in beds and on settees and floors around the place.

So the next morning, we cleared the marquee and did the mammoth wash-up, ably assisted by the folks who stayed the night and now we're busy washing sheets, as every bed was occupied, and cleaning.

For me the best bit will always be having all the people I love most at home - our whole family extended by our two sons in law. And this night marked the end of the beginning. Not the end of being parents to our fabulous brood because the bottom line is that they will always be our children and we will always be mum and dad but the end of the hands-on hothousing and nurturing part of our lives for our offspring - until or unless they present us with grandchildren, in which case we will be starting all over again. So just the end of the beginning.

And, as my number 2 pointed out, our home will always be their home and our fridge their fridge. She had her head in the aforementioned fridge at the time, shortly before she checked out the biscuits and chocolate shelf. Definitely not the end then!

No comments:

Post a Comment